84 
THE GKAND CASON DISTIUGT. 
walls on either side increase in altitude, and asume profiles of wonderful 
grace and nobility. Far in the distance they betoken a majesty and grand- 
eur quite unlike anything hitherto seen. With vast proportions are com- 
bined simplicit}^, symmetry, and grace, and an architectural effect as precise 
and definite as an}- to be found in the terraces. And yet these walls differ 
in style from the Trias and Jura as much as the Trias and Jura differ from 
each other. In the background the vista terminates at a mighty palisade, 
stretching directly across the axis of vision. Though more than 20 miles 
distant it reveals to us suggestions of grandeur which awaken feelings of 
awe. We know instinctively that it is a portion of the wall of the Grand 
Canon. 
The western side of the valley is here broken down into a long slope 
descending from the cones clustered around the base of Mount Trumbull, 
and is covered with broad flows of basalt. Timiing out of the valley we 
ascend the lava bed, which has a very moderate slope, and about a mile 
from the valley we find the Witches’ Water Pocket. In every desert the 
watering places are memorable, and this one is no exception. It is a weird 
spot. Around it are the desolate Phlegrsean fields, where jagged masses 
of black lava still protrude through rusty, decaying cinders. Patches of 
soil, thin and coarse, sustain groves of cedar and ^jinon. Beyond and above 
are groups of cones, looking as if they might at any day break forth in 
renewed eruption, and over all rises the tabular mass of Mount Trumbull. 
Upon its summit are seen the yellow pines (P. ponderosa), betokening a 
cooler and a moister clime. The pool itself might well be deemed the 
abode of witches. A channel half-a-dozen yards deep and twice as wide, 
has been scoured in the basalt by spasmodic streams, which run during the 
vernal rains. Such a stream cascading into it has worn out of the solid 
lava a pool twenty feet long, nearly as wide, and five or six feet deep. 
Every flood fills it with water, which is good enough when recent, but 
horrible when old. Here, then, we camp for the night. 
Filling the kegs at daylight, we descend again into the Toroweap and 
move southward. Our attention is strongly attracted by the wall upon the 
eastern side. Steadily it increases its mass and proportions. Soon it be- 
comes evident that its profile is remarkably constant. We did not notice 
